


first meeting

by orphan_account



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Descriptions of Stalking Intent, First Meeting, M/M, No Romance, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, They meet at a subway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everything was gray, so dark, so bland. It wasdisgusting.Saihara Shuichi hated everything, and Danganronpa was his life. However the moment he met a certain purple haired boy, things were about to change.
Relationships: Saihara Shuichi & Ouma Kokichi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	first meeting

**Author's Note:**

> a little something i've been wanting to experiment on

In this sick, twisted, demented world, there was one thing society liked, Danganronpa. It was pretty much a killing game, with twisted people, violent deaths, good plot and storyline, and interesting debates.

People liked Danganronpa for different reasons. Most of them, however, liked—no, they _loved_ seeing the dead bodies and blood on the victims, along with the thrilling executions. There was something thrilling about the despair on their faces that they couldn't figure out.

One of those people was Shuichi Saihara.

He was a major Danganronpa fan. No, that's an understatement. He wasn't just a fan, it was his life. It first started out of pure curiosity as to why it was so popular and well-known. With his parents being busy overseas and his uncle busy with detective work to look after him, they couldn't warn him to not watch the show. In a split millisecond, he was hooked.

When he was younger, everything seemed gray to him. Everything in this world bored him to death. They were all so boring, so plain and bland. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He didn't make any friends as they would be a bother, and he hated how high pitched their voices were, he hated everything. He felt like something was missing, that there was a missing piece to him. Being born in a loveless family made it even worse, as they sent him off to live with his uncle instead. He appreciated the man for his efforts to make him happy, despite being so busy all the time.

And that's where he found Danganronpa.

Thanks to his family being rich, he was able to buy whatever Danganronpa merch he laid his eyes on without a problem. His favorite being the Kyoko Kirigiri body pillow he always had in his bedroom.

He hated it whenever it was the weekdays. Who didn't? It separated him from his beloved Danganronpa. He hated going to the hellhole of a place called school.

However, if he didn't maintain his grades, he'd be banned from everything related to Danganronpa, and he couldn't have that couldn't he?

Every morning, he'd walk to the subway on his phone, watching episodes of old Danganronpa seasons (apparently you're a huge fan if you rewatch the older seasons), carrying his folders and bag along with him. He had gotten so used to it, that he could literally tell whenever something was out of place.

He still felt incomplete.

One morning, he was walking down the street, his phone in hand, folders and envelope in another at his side, bag hanging loosely by the shoulder. He was just on his way to the subway per usual, rewatching Season 28. It wasn't the best season by far, with how the characters seemed redundant, but the ending was what made him like the season, with the twist of the protagonist's sidekick actually being the mastermind, and their despair-struck faces, ah _how delightful_. He drooled at the thought, face going red as he suppressed an incoming hard-on.

He was at the part where they were all emotional. _'The parts where they all ask why they'd betray them and why they'd love the killing game are so boring. I should probably_ _skip this._ ' As just as he was about to adjust the things he was carrying so he could change the scene, he suddenly fell to the ground, feeling pain shoot through his lower back at hitting the ground. "Hey, watch it!" He growled.

"I-I'm so s-sorry! I-I should've looked at where I was going, u-uh, here, let me help y-you up." A male stammered his apology in front of him, clearly scared and jittery. He held his hand out, for Shuichi to grab on and take.

Meanwhile, the latter could only stare at him in awe. He was mesmerizing, in a way. He had dark purple hair, long wavy hair that seemed natural, covering some parts of his face, purple eyes that you could get lost into forever, he had never met anyone with eyes such as tantalizing as his before. Overall he had a short stature, being around 150 cm tall, he looked like a middle schooler. In a sense, he was cute. ** _A perfect victim._**

"U-um, hello?" Shuichi snapped out of his daydream, remembering that they were at the sidewalk, barely at the entrance of the subway. "Oh, right, sorry." He took his hand, and couldn't help but feel electricity run through his veins. He felt complete.

"A-are you okay?" The shorter male stuttered, looking up at him in worry and guilt. "Yeah, I'm fine." He said, looking down at him, intrigued. "O-oh, that's good, c-could you p-please let go of my hand n-now?" He asked, looking down at their hands. "Oh right." He said in a flat tone, displeased by the fact that he had to let go so soon.

"Um, I'm really sorry to bother you, I-I have to get going now! B-bye!" He bowed in front of him in apology right after helping Shuichi pick up his books, folders, and phone before running towards the subway, blending in with the crowd.

Shuichi could only stand there, frozen as everything turned gray again. He wanted, no — needed, to see him again. He just had to.

Suddenly, he noticed something on the floor. Curious as to what it was, he picked it up. _'A wallet? Could it be his?'_ He couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought as he eagerly opened it. And sure enough, it was his, it belonged to the boy he bumped into earlier.

**Name of student: Kokichi Ouma**  
**School: Tsukuba High**

He cackled as he read the information. _'So he's not a middle school student then.'_ He kept rereading the school ID, his eyes trained on the picture of Kokichi as his feet led him to his usual train. He kept the wallet in his bag, as he sat down, pulling his cap down as he grinned maliciously at the dark thoughts forming in his head. He could use this as an excuse to meet him again, and learn more about him. He held onto his cap, grip tightening by the second.

" _Ah,_ I can't wait."

**Author's Note:**

> creative criticism and feedback are greatly appreciated!


End file.
